


Holiday Cheer

by Chiru



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Snow, secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiru/pseuds/Chiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale about how Jean Kirschtein stopped hating Christmas.</p><p>(and it may or may not involve his best friend whom he may or may not have a crush on)<br/>(It does)<br/>(And he does)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Cheer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Participated in a SnK Secret Santa gift exchange on tumblr (shingeki-no-santa) and wrote this thing for my recipient, Gitta c:  
> Endlessly ashamed of the pure nonsense fluffiness of it, but ok. ^^U

Truth is, I never cared much for Christmas. My family never made a very big deal about it, so the holidays cheer and such are mostly lost on me. Which, you know, is fine. I didn’t care, it wasn’t very important. Perhaps to other people it was, but to me, it wasn’t.

It would be a lot easier to maintain my indifference if my friends weren’t all so goddamn jolly all the time, talking with eternal excitement about their plans and how their whole family would get together and all the fantastic gifts they were going to get. I mean, I may have gotten a little jealous at times, when Eren went on and on about the newly released game he’d received, or when Bertholdt would flush every time somebody pointed out his new scarf that was absolutely not a gift from his boyfriend, what, no, of course it wasn’t. But whatever, I’m not the jealous type, I can handle, I get awesome gifts for my birthday so I have nothing to complain about. It doesn’t bother me that others get awesome gifts twice a year and I only once. Nah.

It became more complicated when I noticed I was starting to get jealous of the damn stupid holidays spirit though. Everybody hates the stupid sweaters and stupid songs and horrible mandatory get togethers with family and such. Everybody, me most of all! So why the flying reindeer was I starting to miss it? I never had it, there was nothing to miss!

If only the empty lonely feeling in my stomach when I got home to the only undecorated house in the whole damn town would listen to how much I didn’t care. Predictably, as stupid feelings tend to do, it didn’t give a damn about what my brain said. Asshole emotions.

This whole “black fucking hole of emotions” has been getting worse over the last few years. This year though? Oh man, this one takes the star from atop the stupid Christmas tree I never got to put up.

It seemed like everybody was even more stupidly into the whole thing that usual. All my friends were excited and the teachers seemed happier and the cat of the neighbour looked just a little cuter than usual. The streets had just that little extra light and decoration. The snow was purer and brighter. The especial Christmas editions were all just a little more alluring.

And of course my dad was on the other side of the world for whatever stupid conference and my mom had accepted the better paying night shift. I even considering throwing a fucking party just to spite them. I didn’t even have to gauge interest to know this would be fucking pointless because everybody was too busy hanging with their fucking loved ones to spend some time with friends.

Mom made lasagna. I’m not sure if she was trying to pacify me with it, but under normal circumstances it would have worked. Except for I was too busy hating on everybody and everything to give a rats ass about the delicious dinner which we ate especially early because she had to get going to bloody work.

“Do the dishes, okay honey?” She tried to kiss me on the cheek, and I considered dodging the affection. I decided to humour her, after all it wasn’t really her fault that today sucked balls. Or was it? Nah, guess not. So I gave her that, being the great son I am. I didn’t return the gesture though. Still feeling sad and alone here, gotta allow myself a little of rebellion.

“Yeah yeah.”

I didn’t do the dishes though. I cleared the table and piled them up in a hot water filled sink. I was even considerate enough to add a little detergent. Filling the dishwasher was too much, I couldn’t be bothered with that, so I figured I’d do it tomorrow. Or my mom could do it. Like I cared.

A quick run around the lower floor and all the lights were off (minus the entrance, so mom wouldn’t have to break her neck when she came back in the dead of the night) and I quickly made my way upstairs, where I proceeded to roll myself in a blanket of misery and play PS3 games that were neither new nor limited edition and ignore the jolly sounds coming from outside. I put the volume extra loud to cast aside the infuriatingly happy outside world.

So no, I really didn’t notice the two snowballs that hit my window.

It was about eleven when Marco Bodt knocked on my window loud enough for me to catch onto his presence. I stared at the boy, his face flushed from the cold and splattered with freckles and a large grin.

Ok, what the hell?

I rushed to let him in, pulling open the window with an stunned look on my face. “Marco, what the fuck are you- wait, how did you get up here?”

“I figured that if Santa could do it for random kids, I could do it for my best friend.” He smirked, the bastard. How could he smirk after saying something so corny and childish it almost made me wanna push him back off the porch roof?

“That- I asked how, not- ok, doesn’t matter, get in here, I’m freezing just from having the bloody window open!”

“Nope.” Came the little devil’s answer. “Pack up warm, we’re going out.”

“We?” I asked suspiciously, eyeing the cold outside. Why would anybody in their right mind want to be outside in the middle of the night with all the damn snow and on freaking Christmas eve?! Seriously?

“Yes. You and me makes we. We learned that in like primary school man. Go on, I’ll wait here.” And them, as if to prove his point, Marco relaxed against the window frame, clearly settled in to wait for me to dress and prepare to face the godforsaken weather with him. And he stared at me with that kind, soft, flushed face that probably didn’t even know what malice was. Ugh. I felt my will falter, he had always been my weaknes- I mean, his face was hard to say no to. Yeah.

“Just tell me why.” I tried. My last chance. Last stand in the battle for comfort.

“Because I got something for you. And I think you’ll like it. At least, I hope you do. If you don’t you’ll break my heart.” He cut his own joke short to bring out the big guns. In came the puppy eyes. And I knew he practiced those, I knew they were as fake as Reiner’s claims to being single, but I still, despite my endless knowledge, couldn’t resist those goddamn big brown eyes glistering and pleading and making my damn insides melt!

“Ahhhhhh, fine!”

He sniggered, which wasn’t adorable, that stupid little shit, and I hurried to put on an extra pair of socks and a warm sweater. “Meet you downstairs.” I said as I rushed to the door. Sure Marco was being obnoxious, but that didn’t mean I should let him freeze to death at my window. He was still my best friend and all. Yes that was the only reason. No I wasn’t concerned with him, pfff, why would I do that?

“No, wait!” He called after me, and I froze (as I was hoping he wasn’t doing) in the doorway.

“What?!” I snapped, running on the last of my patience.

“Let’s leave through here. Adds to the romantic escape idea.” A smile, somewhere between wicked and endearing, adorned his face. His choice of words almost made me flush though, but it didn’t. I knew he meant nothing with it. Stupid theatre kids and their knack for saying embarrassing things with a straight face.

“My boots and jacket are downstairs.”

“Bring them up.”

“Are you fucking se-”

“Yes, Jean, c’mon, humour me here.” He spoke curtly but still smiled invitingly, and it coaxed a loud groan out of me. I waved him off and disappeared from his sight, only to return to him a few minutes later, defeated carrying my boots in my hand to not dirty the whole damn house, because I knew my mom would give me shit if I did. The jacket already engulfed my body, and it did wonders against the icy wind blowing in through the window. I sat on the windowsill, put on my right boot and swung my leg outside, meeting the pleasant sound of crunching snow as I put it down next to my friend. I pulled the other boot on in the same fashion and stared at Marco as I quickly put on my gloves.

“Ready?” He asked, holidays cheer dripping from his pores.

I shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” At this point I completely forgot about the game that I had paused and hadn’t saved yet. Honestly though, I don’t mind exchanging those last hours of playing for what the night brought.

We slid and jumped off the porch, the snow making a satisfactory cushion to break the fall, and after Marco helped me up, he didn’t really let got of my hand. Which, you know, is no big deal. Pretty whatever. No warm fuzzy feelings here. Nah. After all, it’s not like my best friend that I may or may not have a crush for had come to get me because he knew I was alone and feeling like shit on a holiday my family didn’t really celebrate. I mean, that’s probably the corny shit from them drama kids’s wet dreams or something. I dunno. Anyway, it’s not my thing. I didn’t care. I had been fine in my misery and-

I almost tripped and pulled him down onto the cold ground with me. We were crossing the deserted road and the sudden lack of snow had thrown me off balance, but Marco kept me from planting my skin into the pavement. And he laughed, a sound I’d always found unbelieving beautiful (despite the small snorts at the beginning).

“Are you ok?”

You know what, never-bloody-mind all my bullshit from before. I was really fucking happy, and had never felt so damn grateful for anything as I was right then and there when Marco had saved my gorgeous face only minutes after freeing my aching heart. Fuck that’s corny. Maybe I should join theatre too, after all.

I nodded and gave him a little thanks, trying to ignore the tears that were most certainly not starting to line up behind my eyelids. He turned and continued dragging me along at a considerable pace despite the deathtrap that was this damn iced over world.

“Where are we going?” I asked, panting just a little.

“The park.”

We arrived there soon after, and, not unexpectedly on a ass cold night as this one, it was deserted. The park was mostly grass (well, snow now) with very few trees around the borders. It was perfect for snowball fights during this season, but not so great for games during the summer, because it stretched up a hill, and from the top, where Marco and I soon found ourselves, was a beautiful sight over most of the residential area and an absurdity of flickering coloured lights.

Marco twirled on his feet to greet me with on of the greatest smiles I’d seen on his face. And, considering his smiles tended to be pretty fucking great, it was saying something, trust me. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”, left his lips.

“Yeah…” I said, my voice coming out surprisingly soft, completely unlike and strong manly statement I’d wanted to make, filled with positiveness and a hint of indifference. I- I may have been thinking more of him than the sight, just- just because he was doing the thing where he smiled at me and seems so happy just to be here with me like I goddamn mattered and his little freckles seemed move on his adorable round cheeks with every breath he took and-

And suddenly the smile grew, showed teeth, and I knew that’s dangerous. I had no time to react before he put his arms on my shoulders and pushed me backwards. I stumbled, tripped, and fell backwards into the cold white snow. Some of it nestled between my beanie and scarf. I shivered and pulled my head as close to my shoulders as I could. The fucking snow is deep too, building a small wall of white around my sight.

“Goddamit Marco-” I started struggling to get up, annoying with the latest turn of events, but didn’t get far before Marco jumped on top of me. “AH!” I yelled, more a reaction to the snow that drove further into my neck that his surprise attack. I would have glared and wrestled him off of me, but his eyes were hoovering over mine and his smile painfully contagious.

“I’m sorry, Jean.” He didn’t really look apologetic.

“Well yeah, you better be, why the fuck did you do-”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t hate Christmas anymore.”

“What?” My eyes felt like they were set to pop out of my head. Where had that come from? And- and why was Marco’s face still so close to mine?!

“You can’t hate Christmas anymore, because it’s gonna be our anniversary.”

Before I got to ask him what the fuck he was talking about, all the nonsense nearly giving me a headache, I felt soft trembling lips pushing against my dry and broken ones. They were cold on the surface, but heat lay dormant beneath the icy skin. The lips moved, pulled away slightly, got closer again, pecked at my own, opened and closed barely noticeably.

Marco was kissing me. Holy fucking shit Marco was kissing me! I felt my brain short-circuit at the realization.

“Jean?” His voice was trembling, his face back to hoovering just a little above mine. There was a hint of apprehension in his eyes. He had planned this whole thing. This was his gift to me. This was the thing he hoped I’d like, that he said would break his heart if I didn’t. He’d meant it a lot more than what I’d thought.

There were various things I wanted at that moment. I wanted a hot shower. I wanted the cold snow to be gone from my neck. I wanted to sip on some hot cocoa as I watched a bad movie. I wanted a playstation4. I wanted Marco’s lips back on mine and I wanted to roll in the snow with him and make out. And I wanted his company as I took that hot shower, cleaned the snow from my neck, made the hot cocoa and watched the damn movie snuggled closely together until we fell asleep in each others arms.

But first, I figured, it was time to give something in return.

“MarcoIloveyouwillyoubemyboyfriend?” I blurted out, tongue tangling with itself as my brain failed to do the ‘talking’ thing.

His freckles moved as his face fell first, only to be picked back together and build up into the brightest, happiest, dorkiest smile ever to grace his features.

He laughed, and kissed me again.

I assumed it was a yes.

**Author's Note:**

> I never really wrote in first person before D:


End file.
